


Wasteland, Baby

by takethebreadsticksandRUN



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Just Dudes Being Dudes, Kissing, M/M, No beta we kayak like Tim, They love each other, and kissing a lot, anyways this is my attempt to make up for that, cowards i tell you, did you know that?, except for that time alex said they were supposed to kiss at the end of 170, have kisses, here, huh? answer for your crimes?, jonny and alex you are cowards, lots of kisses, making up for the lack of canon kisses, martin and jon traveling through the eypocalypse, post episode 160, the penumbra gets kisses why don't we?, they are two men and they are In Love, this is.....an idea, we have zero canon kisses, we'll see how it goes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:22:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 7,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25923556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takethebreadsticksandRUN/pseuds/takethebreadsticksandRUN
Summary: Fifteen kisses, fifteen domains.ORi had one (1) idea late at night and now i have a whole list of entity-themed kisses and i want you to have them.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 133
Kudos: 158





	1. The Slaughter

**Author's Note:**

> aloha! finally got over a dry spell for inspiration and i present to you, THIS! the first idea i acted on. yes this is a series. no i don't have a schedule. yes i promise i will finish this fic, unlike other *surreptitiously closes door labeled WIP's with my foot* things i've written.  
> i hope y'all enjoy it! let me know what you think in the comments down below, it makes my day  
> xxx

Planes whizzed overhead, humming a dangerous song. Explosions rocked a world far beyond Martin’s sight but well within the reaches of the Eye. Jon’s voice was raw, his body aching as he leaned against Martin.

“Are you- are you okay?”

He laughed hollowly. “Do you _really_ want me to answer that?”

Martin sighed in exasperation. “No, I guess not.” He didn’t say anything else, shifting their position slightly. The cold earth of the dugout shelter wasn’t welcoming, but Jon couldn’t bear to move. Not now, maybe not ever.

“It’s,” Jon whistled through his teeth, “it’s bad, out there.”

Martin tightened his arms around him. “Yeah, that tracks.”

“This is all bad. People are dying and it’s all my fault, if I hadn’t been _stupid_ enough to read that statement, everything would be-“

Martin leaned his head against Jon’s, staring at the dirt-covered wall in front of them. Overhead a gun went off, firing fast and sharp. “No, it wouldn’t. And this isn’t your fault. El-Jonah used you. _You couldn’t have done anything_.”

He shrugged the reassurances aside. “Yeah, try telling that to the all-knowing all-seeing being living in my head.”

“No matter how you try to play it, this isn’t your fault, okay? Trust me.”

“Believe me, I want to.”

Martin stiffened at the words. Jon realized what he had said and rushed to explain, fumbling over his words. “I didn’t mean- of _course_ I trust you- it’s my fault, I mean- I wish I believed you-“

“Hey, it’s okay. I know what you meant.” Martin cupped Jon’s face in his warm hands, looking him in the eyes. “I love you, you know that?”

His gaze flicked to Martin’s lips before answering. “Yeah, I do. I love you too, Martin. So much.”

“Good.” He smiled devilishly. “Then _this_ seems perfectly in order.”

_This_ was a rush of air leaving Jon’s lungs as their lips met. _This_ was Martin’s mouth swallowing his tiny whimper. _This_ was hungry hands pulling each other closer as hungry tongues collided. Jon’s eyes were closed but he could tell Martin’s exact facial expression: determined, slightly possessive, eyelashes brushing his cheeks in delicate arcs.

For a moment he didn’t live in a world he had helped to destroy, living instead in a space just for him and Martin. The kiss was passionate, small noises that could have come from both of them. A reminder that they were in this together.

Somewhere, a bomb dropped. The resulting sound was muted by the explosion in Jon’s gut, a war in his mind between what they should be doing and what they _were_ doing.

Somewhere, a gun fired. He paid it no mind.


	2. The

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A soft moment in the Corruption. Set in episode 164, "The Sick Village"
> 
> TW: bugs, blood and scarring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully i'll be able to update once a day. these a nice warm-ups, fun to write so that's a bonus. so here! enjoy the latest kiss our boys share! the corruption is one of my least favorite entities tbh, idk if y'all can tell by reading this but i HATE writing bugs n stuff  
> let me know what you think!  
> xxx

Jon’s skin itched as he told the tale of the sick village, recounting their woes mindlessly. He didn’t like how it felt good, how it felt _right_ , but he couldn’t do anything about it.

He spoke words he would never forget, scratching at his arms as he did so. Old wounds never truly heal. The worms that gave him those scars slithered somewhere nearby, content to eat and burrow and destroy. Flies droned in his ears and eyes. Jon slapped at a mosquito on his leg, his hand scar-dotted with fingertips stained red.

He continued to speak; his skin never ceased crawling.

When the Eye was satisfied, the tingling in his throat calming for a moment, he reached out for Martin. “I’m done.”

Martin opened his eyes and unplugged his ears. “Good, now we can leave this _horrid_ place- Jon, why are you bleeding?”

He looked down at his hands, unsurprised to find them coated with flaking skin and drying blood. Jon’s fingers were bloody as well, having scratched his old scars raw. “I-uh, bad habit, I guess.”

Martin caught his hand and gently wiped the dripping blood with a sleeve of an old shirt. “There,” he said, loosening his hold on Jon’s hand.

He didn’t let go. “Thank you,” Jon said quietly. His skin still itched, but as long as his hands were occupied he wasn’t scratching at it.

“No problem. Ready to get out of here?” Martin pulled him to his feet, brushing eager insects from his legs.

“Yeah.” He took a fortifying breath. “I think I am.” Jon raised their joined hands and kissed Martin’s knuckles, taking great satisfaction in the blush that crept up his neck. “Let’s go.”

Martin leaned down slightly and kissed him, gently. His lips were feverishly warm, dry and chapped, but they still felt so good against his own.

He pulled away too soon, Jon hating the sick air that crept between them.


	3. The Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment shared as they leave the carousel behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow! guess which local disaster forgot about their WIP entirely? haha not me...  
> let me know what you think!!  
> xxx

Once their backs were safely turned to the carousel, the music just a memory in their ears, Jon finally let himself relax slightly. His fists unclenched with every step he took, the strains of his anger fading into exhaustion once again. He didn’t speak, terrified at what would come out when he did.

Martin broke the silence first. “Well, that was…” he trailed off.

“I’m sorry.”

The ground was hard underneath his feet.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” Jon said softly. “I don’t know what happened back there, I just-“

Martin stopped walking and turned Jon to face him. “Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for.” He ran a hand through his short curls, grinning. “Are you kidding? You just obliterated her! It was amazing!”

“It was?”

Martin laughed, giving Jon a shot of steadying confidence. “It was.”

He bit his lip doubtfully. “Are you sure you aren’t- you know, scared of me?”

“What? No! You’re still _you_.” Jon gave him a small smile, encouraging him on. “And I love you,” Martin finished softly.

“I love you.” Reaching up, Jon laced his fingers around his neck, pulling him down gently. Martin cupped his cheeks with tender hands, lifting him up onto his tiptoes. Their mouths met, the fear and exhaustion salting their lips. Jon sighed, melting into Martin’s body. He pulled the smaller man closer, their noses bumping together.

Jon pulled back a fraction, treasuring the way Martin hummed and tried to close the gap between them. “I love you so much,” he murmured. Martin smiled and kissed him again, fire blooming in the pit of Jon's stomach. He was passionate now, lips and tongues sliding together.

It wasn’t like him, it felt…foreign. Unknown. Strange.

But the shape of Martin’s mouth, the curve of his hands, the ridge of his nose- the most familiar things in the world.


	4. The Buried

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment in the Too-Close-I-Cannot-Breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow it's late here i am No Thoughts Head Empty  
> enjoy!  
> xxx

“Jon I- I can’t breathe.”

Martin’s words came in short gasps, dirt dripping onto his nose from a ceiling that kept pressing closer, _closer-_

Jon struggled to force his own chest up and down. “I know. I know and I’m sor-sorry. It can’t…can’t hurt us-“

The walls shrunk and twisted in on themselves, trying to choke the last remaining pieces of their hope out slowly, so slowly, but Jon shouldered forward, reminding them that he was not to be hurt before the Panopticon had a bite at their fear-apple.

“Why- won’t- it- let- us- _leave_?” His voice was raw, so raw from sounds that were not human and whimpers that were very much so.

Jon reached back and took Martin’s hand, his bones twisting at angles that under _normal_ circumstances would have been long broken. He gave it a reassuring squeeze, his voice useless now as the Buried tried to keep them that way.

Finally, they pushed painstakingly out into the- not sunlight, but out of the horribly cramped place they had just been. Martin immediately spun in a lazy circle, taking in the space around him, allowing himself to breathe deeply.

“That was- _awful_ ,” he sighed.

“It was. Sorry about that, dunno why the Choke was so determined to keep us there,” he tried to explain, finding the words to be useless for what he wanted to say.

Martin grinned at him, sidways, from the ground where he had sat down, elbows propped up on his knees. “I know why- it’s because you’re a catch, don’t want you to get taken by another domain,” he teased.

Jon blushed slightly. “You know that’s not what happened. And besides-“ He sat down as well, leaning against Martin’s solid body, “-you know I’m a taken man.”

“Is that so?” he hummed, leaning forward ever so slightly until-

Jon closed his eyes, letting the darkness comfort him. It was a different kind of hidden, here in Martin’s arms with Martin’s lips on his and Martin’s hair under his hands and-

It was safe, protective, even. He pulled the other man closer, his heart in his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i realized these are mostly jon POV. oops! we'll have to change that ;)


	5. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A kiss from Martin's POV in the End. What's better to dispel the awful certainty of reality than affection?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoooo boy i'm having so much fun writing this. no pressure with updating schedules, no balancing the plot, just good old gays having good old gay kisses in the apocalypse because jonny and alex are COWARDS and REFUSE TO GIVE US CANON KISSES  
> anyways.  
> hope y'all enjoy! let me know what you think, a comment can keep me going for like six and a half years, give or take a few centuries.  
> xxx

Martin’s forearms were crisscrossed with welts left by the ropes that had tried to claim him. He rubbed at them as he walked almost habitually, running his thumb over the raised skin. Each step he and Jon took felt like it would be their last, like it _should_ be their last. But somehow each moment seemed to bring only the threat of another identical minute. _The moment you die will feel exactly like this one_.

That truth was made manifest with every second that ticked by.

A greedy black tendril curled around his wrist, startling Martin out of his thoughts. Before he recovered it began to grow, twining up his arm. With it came the renewed fear and bout- where were they walking to? Their deaths? Not only was it possible, but probable as well. What was the point? They would all die, every single person would. Why bother? Why not just give up now, call it a day in the face of the inevitable? After all, no-

Jon ripped the rope off his body where it had been growing across his shoulders. “Martin, are you okay? Blasted things are getting faster…”

He was safe from the physical grips of the fear, but when can you truly count yourself untethered? The physical manifestation of the End served no purpose but to accelerate his own growing concerns. “Are we doing the right thing?” he asked in a small voice.

Jon pulled up short. “What do you mean? I thought this was what you wanted to do, to save the world?”

“Yeah, I know…but will we be able to do anything? We’re all going to die anyway, what’s a few extra years trapped in- in these useless _flesh prisons._ What if we just make things worse?”

“Hey, hey, don’t think like that.” Jon reached up and brushed a thumb along his cheek, searching his face. “We are going to do our best and that is all we can do. Nobody can hate us for trying to save the world, not when it’s my fault it’s like this in the first place. We _owe_ it to everyone to at least try, and as long as you’re with me, I’m not worried.”

Martin closed his eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath. “Thank you,” he mumbled, “I’m just- so unsure. I can’t know everything like you can, it’s like I’m- trying to put a puzzle back together without knowing what it looked like in the first place.”

“You might not know everything, but I don’t either. I do know one thing for sure.”

He smiled softly. “Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”

“ _This._ ” Jon leaned up on tiptoe, pressing gentle kisses to the corner of his mouth, his nose, the crease of his forehead. “I love you,” he whispered into his skin, affirming the truth with each kiss.

Martin’s breath left him in a small rush of air- _he would never get used to this, to being known and loved_ \- and as he cupped Jon’s face, his lips comforting as ever, he realized he did know one thing for sure.

The world was burning, but as long as he had Jon by his side, he could face whatever end was to come.


	6. The Desolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fire- need I say more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiya! short chapter today but i've had the final line planned since day one. hope you like!  
> xxx

Fire. Fire everywhere. Embers floating through the air, alight in the smoke-heavy atmosphere that choked lungs. Clouds of ash rose with every step, footprints burnt into wooden floors. Skin itching, burning, cracking with the heat. Sweat dripping into already stinging eyes.

The walls were no longer the foundation of a home, the gate that meant safety. Now they were simply a means for the flames to travel faster, licking greedily. Something hissed, it could have come from anywhere. The furniture, threatening to burst into fire, the evaporation of the last liquid, a pained whimper from a dry mouth.

Martin couldn’t breathe, smoke pushing everything else out of his lungs, trying not to panic as he followed Jon through the ruins of somebody else’s safe haven, somebody else’s funeral pyre. He couldn’t think, barely able to choke out a few words here and there.

A stray spark stung his skin, reminding him once more of his vulnerability.

Jon’s hand burned in his, warm and solid against the ever-changing flames. His body was a beacon, a promise that they would make it out of here alive.

Everything else dulled in the presence of the heat and a single thought as he tugged Jon to him, desperate to know that he was still _ther_ e.

_Your cherry lips, oh how they burn._


	7. The Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jon compares himself to Orpheus, loses the love of his life (temporary) and tries to remind him of a vital truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted this one to come out PERFECT AND AMAZING so it took a bit longer than normal, sorry guys! this one is a big one for me, jonny and alex said they were planning on having an actual canon kiss in this episode but decided against it. i, for one, believe that a kiss here would have been PERFECT so this is my take on it. i took a few lines from the actual episode itself (episode 170 for reference)  
> please let me know what you think! feedback keeps me going! if there is something specific you would like to know or address, leave a comment  
> enjoy!  
> xxx

The fog curled around his ankles, chilling him to the very bone. The former warmth from walking at Martin’s side was gone, replaced with sea-salt air and gray thoughts. Jon tried to breathe evenly, to remind his growing paranoia that Martin was just behind him, he always would be. He closed his eyes as he walked, trying to focus the Eye in front of him, resisting the temptation to See Martin.

_He’s there. He’s following you. Don’t Look- he hates that._

The ground beneath his feet changed imperceptibly from ember-cement to something that crunched with sand. The air was tinged with the sickly sweet scent of rot and despair, of mold left to grow so long that nobody knew what it once was, of microwave dinners for one and the choking smell of a life barely lived in.

_He’ll be fine. Martin won’t appreciate your hovering. Don’t. Look._

Thoughts of Orpheus and Eurydice floated through his mind, the reminder of a man who didn’t trust and a woman who did. Was this their story? Was this the play who’s script they were following, blindly retracing the steps to destruction?

Hades let Eurydice go, allowing Orpheus to lead her away as long as they relied on each other. Orpheus knew the way (or he was supposed to) and Eurydice only had to follow (was that her punishment? blind faith?)

Peter Lukas- well, he didn’t let them go, exactly. But he wasn’t gone either. No, he still lingered in the faded freckles across Martin’s cheeks, in the way his eyes would fog over when the world got too loud, reminding them all that you couldn’t leave your past behind- it always had its jaws around your throat, moments from snapping shut and ending it all.

But still, Jon had to lead the way out of the Lonely. It might have been the Underworld, Erebus, Hades, Jahannam, hell- whatever you wanted to call it, it was the place Jon had to rescue Martin from. Martin followed in his footsteps, clinging to the hope that he was going the right way.

Here they were again. Jon leading, Martin following. Martin trusting, Jon- worrying. Not mistrustful. Just anxious. Worried that the Lonely might sink its claws into him again, not wanting to overstep his own boundaries.

Whatever the similarities between them and the legends of old, one thing set them apart- Orpheus lost Eurydice. He failed her, proving once again that mankind is weak and prone to self-destruction.

Orpheus failed. Jon wouldn’t. He _couldn’t._ Couldn’t lose Martin.

_Don’t look. Trust him. Trust him. Trust-_

“Martin?” Jon’s voice echoed strangely, the words swallowed as soon as they left his mouth by something that couldn’t speak for itself. “Martin, do you want to stop?”

_No answer._ There was no answer. Jon turned around only to see fog and endless gray walls (somehow they- _he_ \- had ended up in a house with no windows and too many doors, staircases leading to empty rooms with chairs that did not invite relaxation.

Martin was not in any of them. He was not lingering just beyond earshot. He was not staring wistfully at the old paintings like the few other lost souls he passed (pebbles dropped beyond the normal traffic of life, abandoned at the side of the road with nobody left to miss them)

“ _Martin?_ ”

The Compulsion was there, the panicked need to Know and See and Find him, to reach out with his mind and pluck the knowledge from thin air, but Martin _hated_ that. Jon wandered- no, not wandered. _Wandered_ was an all too calm word for the situation. Jon _paced_ up and down and around the Lonely’s mansion, scanning stairwells and hallways and bedrooms all bleached uniform gray.

He didn’t know how long he searched but he did know that by the time he reached the room at the end of the longest hall, he was ready to scream if his throat hadn’t already been worn raw with ocean air and desperate shouts.

But there Martin was, standing in the middle of the room, looking slightly lost but not defeated. “I am in _love_ and I will not forget that, I am Martin Black-“

Jon almost collapsed from relief at that moment. The fog fled from his footsteps, knowing it couldn’t touch him. “Martin!” The floorboards creaked under his feet but he paid them no mind, rushing to reach him.

Martin turned toward his voice, his face shifting from determined to something so much softer, vulnerable and open. “Wai- what? Jon? “

The Lonely made one more attempt to hide him from view, trying to secrete him in a pocket of loneliness so desperate it slid off his shoulders like water beading off plastic. “ _Martin!_ ”

“Jon, over here- I’m right here!” The quiet desperation in his voice almost broke Jon, so hopeful and cautious at the same time.

“Martin, I’m coming-“

And there he was. There _they_ were. Together again. Martin’s hands were cold and clammy as they seized his own, desperately searching for some hint that this wasn’t some dream, some vision. Jon squeezed them, hard, before burying his face in Martin’s chest. “Oh, thank the stars, I was….I, I thought you were right behind me.”

_So did Orpheus. He looked back. Jon didn’t. Neither of them trusted, but one didn’t trust his love, the other didn’t trust himself._

Martin crushed him into a hug, sinking to his knees on the hard ground. Jon let himself be held for a moment, the pinpricks of pain from the rough wood a minor inconvenience.

“I thought you left me,” he said softly, “Gone on without me.”

Jon pulled back, eyes wide. “No, no never, I just- I, I didn’t want to - Look too h- I promised I wouldn’t Know you, and, and with the fog, and, and all the rooms, I just - I lost you; I’m – _I’m sorry_.”

Martin smiles, a weak thing but a smile nonetheless. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” He leaned into the embrace again, speaking into Jon’s shoulder. “This place tried- it really did, but it uh, it couldn’t touch me like it used to. I’m not Lonely anymore.”

Jon nodded, staring into his eyes steadily now. “Not anymore.” He tipped his head towards Martin, cupping his jaw with one hand that was still shaking and-

Martin sighed softly, looping his hands around Jon’s neck. He pulled the other man closer, _closer,_ wanting to make sure he wasn’t a mirage.

His mouth tasted of salt and something bitter, something _distant._ Jon hummed and deepened the kiss, trying to erase the lingering traces of the Lonely.

Martin broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against Jon’s. “Not anymore,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so  
> that episode today huh  
> how we feeling? tma really said screw common tropes in the media and portrayed a very real fear in a very real way  
> again, please leave a comment it really helps with the writing process!


	8. The Flesh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared's homophobia has some bonuses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is the flesh! tried not to be too gory in the description because the flesh is my least favorite fear of all time, it makes me shudder to think about it, but i've got a few little bits in there that are vaguely-flesh related.  
> thanks for reading guys! i hope you enjoy it, please comment and let me know what you think  
> xxx

“So….”

Jon looked up at him, waiting for him to finish his sentence. A spray of blood coated his shoes, blending into the spongy ground. “Yes?” he prompted.

Martin blushed furiously. “Boyfriends, huh?”

He froze, looking scared for a moment. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed- I, I, I just supposed? I couldn’t stand Jared either, that stupid way he smiled, looking like he wanted us to be offended…”

Martin laughed, taking Jon’s hand. “No, no, it’s fine, actually.” He ran his free hand through his hair, grinning at the sky. _Take that, Elias. I’m dating your Archivist._ “It’s better than fine. Perfect.”

Jon sighed, relieved. “Oh, good, I didn’t want to put you on the spot like that, but…” he trailed off delicately.

“Homophobes,” he finished.

“Homophobes.”

They walked in silence for a moment, some stubborn, romantic part of Martin’s brain chanting _boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend_ over and over.

“I was actually wondering when it would come up,” he said conversationally.

Jon blanched. “When what would come up?”

“You know, _the discussion_. The defining. I wasn’t exactly sure what we were. I mean,” Martin gestured at the world with his free hand, taking in the blood-stained sky, the meat flowers blooming beneath their feet, the shadow of the Panopticon in the distance. “This isn’t exactly normal, is it?”

“No, I suppose not. I should thank Jared, he inadvertently did the defining _for us_.”

Martin laughed, the sound making Jon shiver with the knowledge that he did that, he was the reason Martin was smiling and happy for a moment. “Thanks, you homophobic hunk of meat!” he called over his shoulder where Jared had been earlier.

“Well, let me make it official-“ Jon stopped walking and faced Martin, raising their intertwined hands and kissing his knuckles, enjoying the way he flushed. “Martin K. Blackwood, will you be my boyfriend?”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course, silly. You already know I love you so much.”

“Well, I still had to ask. Can’t assume and all that.”

Martin huffed and pulled him in close, leaning down to kiss him. A breath away from his lips he said softly, “I love you, Jon.”

Jon closed the gap between their mouths impatiently, knocking the air out of him with the force of it.

Martin settled his hands on his hips, squeezing softly as Jon tangled his fingers into his hair. The sounds of the world on fire could no longer be heard, no, the fear couldn’t touch them here in this world of soft lips and even softer noises from the both of them. Martin’s heart pounded with the steady beat of love and he deepened the kiss, desperate to let Jon know just _how much_ he was loved and needed.

Jon reciprocated, eagerly pressing closer. He nipped at Martin’s lower lip, teasing a low moan out of the back of his throat. He repeated the action, this time harder.

It felt so _good_ to be here, not worrying for once about when he might be killed next by some power-hungry avatar.

Martin let himself stay in the moment, the faint tang of blood in his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm going to shamelessly beg for attention here- i recently updated a fic i've had going for a while and i haven't gotten a lot of feedback on it (which is vaguely worrisome) so if you have the time i would love it if you checked out my other fic, "Just a Little Cliche" and told me what you think! it really helps me to gauge how i should write the next chapter based on reactions (and also it makes me vv happy to hear from y'all)  
> thanks for reading this, and if you would check out my other fic if you're interested i would LOVE that!


	9. The Web

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A kiss in the Web for all my web!Martin theorists out there!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a rough few weeks i will not lie but i am still here! trying my best! i'm on a brief hiatus from my other fic if you were wondering (you probably weren't but i still feel bad)  
> anyways, finally felt up to posting again so here! have this! i'm happy with how it turned out, i've had some of these lines written for like. a month at least.  
> please tell me what you think!  
> xxx

Jon couldn’t stop his hands from twisting and fidgeting as they walked through endless theaters, all strung with lights and unfortunate souls. Martin kept his gaze straight ahead, following him with such blind faith that Jon couldn’t help but fall in love all over again. Somehow, after all they’d been through ( _after all he’d done_ ) Martin was still by his side, loving every broken part of him.

Jon reached out a hand and tangled their fingers together, desperate for contact, reassurance that he was real and not re-living another childhood trauma. He shook his head slightly, frustrated at the way his free hand still trembled, fingers fluttering in time with some fear-song another poor fool was dancing to.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly.

Martin looked at him, momentarily surprised at the question. “Wh- yeah, I’m fine, why do you…”

“I’m not allowed to ask how my boyfriend is doing now, am I?” he teased gently. “Love, I wanted to make sure you’re still, ah, _here_ , I guess.”

“Wouldn’t dream of leaving.” Martin spoke with such conviction that Jon closed his eyes, absorbing the force of the words.

“Do you-“ He cleared his throat. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course I do.” Martin rubbed circles into the back of his palm, the strength from the simple gesture keeping Jon upright.

“Thank you,” he whispered, turning to look at the man beside him with eyes that could have replaced the stars in their brightness.

“For what?”

“For…being here. For being here and loving me, for letting me love you.”

Martin smiled softly, the corners of his mouth curling up to soften his tired face. “Always, Jon.”

_Always._ The enormity of that word used to scare Jon. It still does, in a way. Faced with an eternity of fear and pain was no laughing matter. But here they were, staring down the Fears, ready to burn them to the ground and raise the world from their ashes.

But always with Martin- well, that was something else. Always was a life they might have shared so long ago, back when their bodies weren’t marked and their memories full of laughter and light.

He repeated the word softly, wrapping a hand around Martin’s neck and gently tugging him down. Jon whispered it in between velvet kisses, their lips brushing with such tenderness he thought he might break from the care in it.

Spider silk cut into his tongue. Jon shuddered and pulled Martin closer, feeling his heart tugged in so many directions at once, all of the strings leading to the hands of the man moaning softly into his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it didn't make the final chapter but the reason the "always" thing is so important is because of the whole shabang with annabelle cane trying to break them apart. i need them to trust each other! please!
> 
> your comments make my day!


	10. The Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is a moment the boys share after the dark statement!  
> enjoy  
> xxx

“Seeing those kids really shook you up, huh?” Jon asked, squeezing Martin’s hand gently.

Martin scoffed lightly. “Understatement of the year- apocalypse. They’re so young! Just leaving them there…it feels _wrong_.”

“I know. I wish there was more we could do for them, but…”

Martin glared at the sky, following Jon’s lead. “I get it. We have to save the world in order to save the people in it.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“You apologize too much.” Martin pressed a kiss to Jon’s lips, effectively quieting him. It was gentle, something sweet in the otherwise bitter world.

He pulled back, keeping a hold on Martin’s shoulders. “Did you…” he trailed off, unsure.

“What is it?”

“Have you ever thought about having kids?” he asked quietly.

Martin froze.

Jon fumbled to cover his words. “Sorry, I don’t know where that came from…just forget I said-“

He laughed a little. “No, you’re fine, you just caught me off-guard I guess. I mean, yeah? A little bit? Have you?”

“Up until very recently, I was sure I was going to die alone and unloved,” he answered truthfully. “So no.”

“Now, why would you ever think that?” Martin asked, kissing his cheek. “Nope, don’t answer. Did seeing those kids make you consider adopting them?”

“Heavens no. But just the way you reacted, it made me think…I don’t know.” Jon let his hands fall to his side, slightly uncomfortable under Martin’s gaze.

“Well, if we save the world…” he said, linking their arms together and starting to walk again, “We can talk about kids, okay?”

“You would want a family with me?” Jon asked, barely able to believe it.

He rolled his eyes. “You would be an insufferable man to spend the rest of my life with, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Jon felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes, silently willing himself to keep it together. “Thank you,” he said softly, bringing their joined hands up to his mouth and kissing Martin’s knuckles. “You would be a great father.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m omniscient, remember? I know _everything_.”

He bumped their shoulders together. “Yeah, but I thought you said-“

“I don’t need eldritch assistance to see how much you care about people.”

Martin smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me? updating two WIPs in one day? it's more likely than you think.


	11. The Vast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin finds himself in the Vast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternate summary- in which we discover is a huge slut for the Vast. like literally catch me simping at all hours of the clock. it's so fun to write!!  
> please tell me what you think!  
> xxx

The ground under Martin’s feet did not seem quite solid, instead hovering somewhere between corporeal and vapor, the empty space around him somewhere between hyper-realistic and fugue state. The pull that kept him _here_ weakened, the sky opening below him, trying to swallow him whole.

His head reeled with the enormity of it all, feeling like if he had wings he might never come down. The air seemed solid enough for him to take a step up, toward the void, the ground not bound by gravity or any of the laws that used to govern normal life.

Then again, nothing left in his life was normal. Was it really so strange then, that he felt simultaneously drawn to _somewhere_ beyond here and repulsed by the size of it? He was spinning, spinning, spinning on the smallest point of reality, nothing stretching out before his closed eyes for a finite infinity.

His name was nothing but a distant call, a call whispered by few. What was keeping him here? What was trapping him, making sure he didn’t fall backward into _everything_? The sound of open spaces echoed into his ears, increasing the distance between his consciousness and his awareness of time and his very existence.

Something was trying to break through it all, to force him to crouch back down into a shadow of himself again. Here he had it all, rich in the vastness of sky and wind. Why would he return to the painful magnet of his old life? Nothing was left of it, anyway, nothing but fear and pain and love and-

What?

_“Martin, Martin, come back to me-“_

No, no, that was all _wrong_ he was nothing but empty spaces in bones hollowed for flight and falling. But something inside his chest was twisting, growing back towards the ground (towards memories that he had forgotten years ago yet made yesterday).

“ _Martin. Do you see me?”_

Who was he supposed to be seeing? Himself? Someone else? Nothing existed in this space with him, his own body was floating and if he looked at it, an uncomfortable solidity _pulled_ him back to the place he had been before.

One hand stretched toward everything. The other held nothing in his palm, scars and creases mapping out the constellations of his story. His _life_. Martin tried to let go, tried to reach out for the promise of monotony in the eternal sensation of falling and floating.

Shreds of his life slipped through the cracks of numb sensation, reminding him of _something_ -

Martin felt the gravity of another planet, another god gently tugging him, telling him to stay, that he would be safe. Soft lips brushed his cheek, his forehead, his neck- whispers against his skin.

_“Stay here. Stay with me. I’m right here with you. Don’t leave, not again.”_

An awareness broke through the never-ending sameness- he had a body, he had air in his lungs and gravity on his fingertips. Martin sighed, exhaling infinity and inhaling the sensation of being loved.

“J-jon?” His voice broke, the force required to make himself heard almost too much.

Suddenly he was standing below a blood-streaked sky, opening his eyes to see he was not, in fact, floating through the vast nothingness of existing in a non-corporeal fashion but swaying slightly on solid ground, Jon pressing feather-light kisses across his body.

“Are you alright? You…” Jon squeezed his hand, the pressure reminding him of too many things at once- walls pressing in on all sides, the scars on his palm seeming to jump with the movement like the old worms had returned, the distance between the two of them simultaneously too great and just enough to keep him from collapsing in on himself again.

Martin blinked, trying to force himself to stay present. “Wh-what happened?”

“It’s the Vast, I suspected something like this might happen at one point…Simon’s taken a shining to you.” Jon looked at him, concerned.

“I’m in the Vast,” he said, more to remind himself than anything, “This is my body, the ground will not melt away-“

Jon pulled him into a careful hug, not holding him too tight but still grounding. “I’m right here with you,” he said again.

“You won’t leave?”

“Never.”

Jon leaned up and kissed him, once, gently on the lips, sealing the words into his skin.


	12. The Extinction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few words in the Extinction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at this point i am Disregarding how the entities work and making my own versions. enjoy!  
> xxx

“Is this what the end of the world is going to look like?” Martin asked as he picked his way through a sea of garbage and household items that had lost their use long ago.

Jon frowned, kicking a plastic bottle to the side. “What do you mean? This is the apocalypse, the end of all time and reality.”

He huffed. “I know, I know, that’s not what I meant to say…”

He waited, saying nothing as they continued to crunch through oily piles of garbage. On the top of one mound of crushed aluminum cans sat a featherless bird, its beady eyes sunken in mottled flesh. It glared at the pair as they passed, daring them to laugh, to mock the things they had helped destroy.

“Is this what the end of the world _was_ going to look like? You know, if it had been left to just humans.”

Jon laughed, dry and humorless. “Possibly. That’s taking out a lot of variables, such as the abilities of national leaders to rein in corporations, manage waste, the amount of hybrid and electric cars, conservation efforts, general awareness-“

Martin broke him off with a kiss, stemming the flow of information. He pulled back quickly, smiling. “Yeah, you’re right, that’s a hard question to ask…”

Jon pouted slightly at his absence, stretching up on his toes to kiss him again. “Sorry,” he whispered against his skin. “Sorry.”

Martin pulled back again, cupping his face in his hands. “Don’t apologize.”

“But I trapped you here-“

“Nope, we’ve been through this, Mr. Archivist-“ Martin brushed a kiss against his jaw. “-this is _not your fault._ And besides, if this is what eternity looks like? I’m just glad I get to spend it with you.”

Jon tugged him back down, sealing the gap between them with a huff. “Me too.”


	13. The Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment in the Hunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look at them, jonny and alex, you screwed up perfectly traumatized characters further! look at them, they've got anxiety and ptsd!  
> enjoy!  
> xxx

A branch cracked in the very near distance. Jon closed his eyes, taking a measured breath, before opening them and taking both of Martin’s hands in his own. “Right, Martin- do you trust me?”

His eyes widened and he looked for a moment like he was going to pull away, then he thought better of it. “What? Ah, _no,_ this can’t be good. Yes? I do?”

A sigh escaped his mouth, a sound he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Then it’s very- listen-“ Jon cupped his face in his hands, focusing his gaze on nothing but the man in front of him. “The next couple of minutes are going to be quite unpleasant for one of us, and I’m sorry.”

His heart ached with the pain that flashed across Martin’s face, there was trust there, yes, but there was something else. Not quite regret but discomfort, a bitter resolve.

“Uh…” Martin swallowed back a flood of words he could have said, choking on a few of them. “Sorry, what?”

Hating himself even more by the second, Jon did not let go. “You need to remain very calm, don’t make any sudden movements.”

Martin brought his own hands up to gently squeeze his wrists, questioning. “Oh, okay, _now_ I’m worried; what d’you-“

Jon cut off the rest of the sentence with a kiss, frantic and apologetic. He did not have time to relax against Martin’s body, not enough time to reassure him before a wolf-like man appeared behind him.

With a growl, he seized Martin and held a knife to his throat. “ _Don’t you move!_ ” he shouted, his voice animalistic, ” _Don’t you dare move!_ ”

With a pang in his throat, Jon realized he had made a dreadful miscalculation. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dialogue taken from episode 176, blood ties


	14. The Spiral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is more sexy and romantic than a fear institution? Not a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wee are getting close to the end guys! thank you to everyone who has read/commented so far, y'all are outstanding and i love you so much  
> enjoy!  
> xxx

There is antiseptic in the air and in Martin’s throat. It burns but at the same time it feels almost right, like it should be there, scrubbing out some part of him that is still dirty and contaminated.

The walls around him are impossibly rigid, the perfect picture of white paint too bright and if he focuses on it for too long the edges of his vision glow with different colors, the blank shape-shifting ever so slightly.

He sinks against the floor, not daring to lean on the wall for support. What if they fell apart beneath him, wooden shards digging into his skin? What if they collapsed like molding drywall? Where they really _there_?

Martin took a shuddering breath, trying not to panic as the minutes ticked by. No, not minutes. They didn’t exist anymore. Now time was irrelevant and each passing thought was the only way he could tell he was still alive, still moving, not trapped in the same space for all eternity.

He could hear faint laughter, a sound that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. It echoed toward him, growing louder with each reverberation until all he could hear was the awful headache of it. The hallway was empty except for himself, but he felt like something else was there, something watching and breathing and laughing.

The door to his right opened and he breathed a sigh of relief as Jon stepped out, looking shaken.

“Jon! I was starting to get worried, are you alright?”

He said nothing, stepping toward him and collapsing into his chest. “I hate this place,” he mumbled, his words muffled by Martin’s jacket.

He ran a hand through his hair, reassuring him the only way he knew how: with his presence. “I know, love, I know. Me too.”

“I hate that I can’t do anything,” Jon said, not moving.

Martin tilted his chin up with a gentle hand and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “We’ll fix this,” he murmured, kissing his jaw, “I know we will.”

The sounds of the hospital surrounded him, trying to tell him he was trapped, he was helpless, but he shook them away with thoughts of the man in front of him.

As it turns out, kissing the love of your life is a very effective way to ignore the fact that you were sitting in a fear-domain, the essence of madness seeping into every corner of your being.

Jon’s mouth was soft, gentle. They fit together just right, their scars aligned like magnets pulling two opposites together, their breath mingling as they kissed. Martin knew he would outrun the world with this man, fighting against-

“You two done yet?”

Basira crossed her arms as they broke apart.

Jon glared at her.


	15. The Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A last chapter; a final kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the full experience listen to Cigar by Tamino while reading. i used a few lines here and there, please listen to it! it's amazing!  
> this is the final chapter. i cried writing this, for reasons you will soon see. please tell me what you think!  
> enjoy!  
> xxx

Jon remembered the moment he began to doubt the connection to his humanity. His thoughts had sharpened, his mind clearing unnaturally, hungry beams of light searching the world for another morsel of fear, something else to take and warp into a _statement_.

Martin was there.

He remembered that too. He could recall _so clearly_ the look of pain on his face as he watched Jon, afraid to touch him for fear of breaking him. Love, too. Even after all that, Martin was still by his side, love in every quiet touch, in each repressed laugh, in each not-so-repressed threat directed at Elias.

He knew Martin loved him. He Knew that, how couldn’t he? He doubted anyone in this new world _didn’t_ know by now. The devotion and trust was overwhelming at times. Jon didn’t deserve it. But all the same, he reached out with hesitant hands and was never once turned away.

“I’ll understand if you don’t want to do this,” Jon said, standing at the foot of the enormous Panopticon, glowing green and dotted with blinking eyes that gave it a shifting kaleidoscopic look.

Martin looked at him in surprise. “What are you talking about? I’m ready to shove the consequences of his actions _so far down his throat_ he’ll be-“

“Yes, yes, I get it,” he laughed. He sobered a moment later, adding, “It will be dangerous. This is one place I- well, I can’t protect you here.”

Martin squeezed his hand, reassuring. “I’ll be right here for every step of the way. Hey, _I love you_. I wouldn’t leave you.”

He pulled the smaller man into a hug, burying his face in his neck. He didn’t say anything, just held Jon close, so close, making sure they were both alive and whole. Ready for what was going to come.

“We might die,” he said, his words muffled by Martin’s chest. He pressed himself into the embrace, trying to soak it up with every part of his body

“I know,” came the response. “Everything dies, eventually, even memories. We’re no different. But we will make every second we have on this miserable planet worth it.”

Overcome with a fear unlike anything he had ever felt before, Jon pulled back from the hug and dragged him into a searing kiss, trying to press every promise, broken or whole, into it. Every _I love you_ they had traded, small laughs rising from sunburnt mornings, each part of himself that loved Martin rose at once, fighting to be known and acknowledged.

Martin hummed, deep in his throat, and tilted his head for a better angle. Jon shuddered and tried to memorize the sensation of twin breaths, lips softer than his words, strong hands warming his back. 

“ _I love you_ ,” he whispered, kissing Martin’s jaw, reminding him that every part of his body was worth worship. “ _So much_.”

Overhead, the sky blinked once more, and Jon knew- both ways- that the future was looming. It always was, Death lingering at his doorstep since he was little, knocking at every chance it could take.

Death held a coat, trying to convince him it would suit him better than the thin fabric of life.

_Would it fit me? Would I take it?_

He didn’t know. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but all that mattered was that he was here with Martin, pressing his lips to his cheek, his neck, his shoulders.

Maybe life isn’t about explaining your time, but he sure as hell was going to try.

“Stay with me.”

Jon didn’t know who said it. It didn’t matter, anymore.

“Look at me,” he whispered, “What do you see?”

Martin’s eyes were red as he replied, “I see you, Jon.”

“I’ll always be right here. You can always see me if you just look. _Promise me you’ll look_.” He surprised himself with the urgency with which he spoke, his words torn from his throat by the unseen force, panic.

“I promise.” Martin’s voice shook and he squeezed Jon close again, feeling the gap in his ribs. “ _I promise_.”

This world didn’t fit him, or maybe Jon didn’t fit in the world. But Martin’s words slipped over his body like a second skin, a protection.

He could do this.

“I love you, so much. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do, Jon, _of course I do._ ”

Jon kissed him once more, trying to ignore the way the Panopticon was calling to him. He would stay in this moment for just a little longer, cling to mortality for as long as possible.

He felt his eyes burn and didn’t even fight the tears. His voice was hoarse, his words weighed by finality. “ _It’s always been for you. Please remember that._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know if jon will die or if martin will, but the mortality thing is ambiguous enough- he could die OR lose all connection to humanity if martin dies. he needs a reason, folks.  
> i just want to say thank you to all those who have read this fic, i could NOT have done it without you all! i never thought this little idea would turn out like this, it's been a wonderful ride. the response has been amazing and a highlight of my writing experience for the past weeks honestly. y'all are the best! so this is goodbye i guess for this fic (by no means for my writing tho)  
> again, thank you so much<3 please take care of yourselves! drink water! take your meds! be nice to yourself! sleep!   
> hopefully i'll see you around, loves!  
> xxx


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